Free Two Worlds Collide (An Erotic Spanking Book) by Rachel Burns Page A

of a lineup, not very romantic. I had been saved from certain
death. Did that have something to do with it? Was I suffering from
Stockholm syndrome? Did it matter if it made me happy? Should I have
put up a better fight? Would I regret what had happened?
    I
snuggled in closer to him and laid my head on his chest. Thinking
about fighting him and being away from him had made me feel sad. If I
honestly did have Stockholm syndrome then I was happy, so what did it
matter? I felt safe with him. I let my eyes close. We hadn't slept
much last night.

    I woke
up in my bed alone. I looked around for him. “Aide,” I called out
to him. My eyes darted over to the wall that held the bathroom behind
it. It was closed and it was always open when we were in it. I got up
and looked around for him. He wasn't in the living room either.
    I had
to go to the bathroom. I went and stood in front of the door. I
figured the intercom person was listening maybe I could get lucky. I
tried to say what he always did to no avail.
    “Open
sesame.” Nothing. I was getting desperate.
    “I
have to go to the bathroom, please open up.” The door opened. It
took me a moment to believe what had happened. I went in and went to
the bathroom. I enjoyed the privacy.
    Great
now onto the next problem. How was I going to flush?
    “Flush,
please.” I called out. It did. They had programmed the things in
here to listen to me too. I liked that. It could only mean that I was
going to be here awhile.
    I
washed my hands and brushed my hair. A smile began to grow on my
face. I could finish it in under a minute but Aide would need at
least five.
    I went
out and sat on the sofa, arranging my skirt so it fell prettily
around me. I wanted to look nice for him when he came in. Perhaps the
intercom would call him, telling him I was awake. He didn't show up
and I wasn't used to not doing anything so I grabbed my laptop and
turned some music on and sang along with it. It felt good to
understand what was being said or in this case sung. I listened to
sad songs because I felt a little lonely without him.
    I
decided to start a journal. I probably wasn't allowed to write on my
computer but he wouldn't know what I was up to. I typed in everything
that had happened to me and how I felt about it and how I was feeling
at the moment.
    I sang
and typed, feeling pretty happy even though I was separated from
Aide. I finished and looked around. He was laying on the bed. I
closed my computer and the music stopped. He sat up and looked at me.
    He was
here. That was why I wasn't so sad anymore. I quickly went to him and
sat down next to him, laughing at my own belief that his presence
alone had the power to control my moods. How silly was I going to
get?
    He
said something. I shook my head and raised my shoulders. Trying to
show him that I didn't understand.
    He got
up and went to my computer. He brought it back to me.
    I
guessed he wanted to hear more music. I started it and looked for
something romantic. I didn't have that much romantic music, having
been single up until now. That made me smile. I wasn't single
anymore. I started the same music as before and smiled at him. The
music filled the air.
    He
looked at me so intently. He had wanted something else. His
fingertips slowly reached for my throat. Like when we had practiced
each other's names. He wanted me to sing along.
    Oh,
this could get embarrassing. I wasn't that bad of a singer but also
not that great. But he had already heard me singing, when I hadn't
realized that he was here.
    Here
goes nothing, I thought. I sang and he listened and smiled. He still
had his fingertips on my throat. I sang him a couple of songs. Then I
closed my laptop.
    He
looked a little mad. I pet my throat to show him that it would hurt
me to go on singing. I put my fingertips on his throat, wanting to
hear him sing too. I smiled at him encouragingly.
    He
shook his head.
    My
head tilted to the side. I was disappointed. I had sung for him. I
wouldn't understand